Muggling It
by Fiji Mermaid
Summary: In the magical world, “Muggling It” is now en vogue. Join us in the suburbs as wizards and witches experience domestic tranquility sans magique. Washing the dishes never looked so...complicated.
1. Disturbia

Muggling It

By Fiji Mermaid

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, words, phrases and other HP blippity blop belong to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.

Urban dwellers like to spend a lot of money to "rough it" and "get back to nature" on farms and ranches. In the magical world, "Muggling It" is now en vogue. Join us in the suburbs as wizards experience domestic tranquility sans magique. Washing the dishes never looked so… complicated.

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Chapter 1: Disturbia

The glossy pamphlet lay open on the table flashing its promises for all to see.

"**Wizards and witches, come one, come all to a fabulous resort located in the middle of Muggle Edinburgh. Here, you can transform yourself from magic dependent to electricity dependent in just seven short days. Experience everyday Muggle life and engage in the wonders that are television and gas stoves.**

**Wizards -- gain macho points by mowing the lawn or chopping wood and then building a fire. Couples, improve your sex lives with grease monkey lessons for the men and stiletto training for the women!**

**Children can learn the unwritten and ever-changing rules of the playground or run their first business venture via lemonade stands. There are also a variety of American activities to try. Women of a certain age can go rummage sale-ing. Wizened grey men, test your skills on the golf course at St. Andrew's.**

**Remember, no magic is allowed during your stay as we hope to provide the richest and truest experience possible here at Ideal Street Resort!"**

It was all the rage.

Most surprisingly, pureblood wizards and witches were flocking to Ideal Street and returning to regale their friends with hilarious anecdotes about the way Muggles cleaned their clothes and their homes. In private, witches traded tips with their witchy friends about the best way to spice up their sex lives, while wizards lied about how much weight they could bench press. "At least 150 libbs, dude."

Needless to say, Hermione Granger was a rich witch.

After the war, the wizard community saw a need for an improvement in attitude towards Muggles. Many businesses had tried and failed to accurately portray the Muggle world to wizards and witches, but most had failed. In order for magic folk to understand Muggles, they had to let go of their magic but that's not very fashionable now, is it?

Hermione had grown up in the Muggle world until her acceptance at Hogwarts and had watched her fair share of reality television. She may have scoffed at celebrities getting paid to go on cattle runs or "survive" in jungles around the world, but she had to appreciate the genius of putting celebrities in slightly unbelievable situations, making fun of them and then making money off it. She wasn't the smartest witch of her generation for nothing.

Hermione had opened her domestic suburbia in the middle of Muggle Edinburgh two years previously to get over a painful breakup with a certain Ronald Weasley. Business had been slow at first but grew through word of mouth. Hermione hired other Muggle-born wizards and witches as staff while Harry Potter taught the special sessions on grease monkeying and other manly pursuits.

Time had healed her rift with Ron and Hermione found that she had more money than she knew what to do with besides purchasing an island in the Bahamas.

And a villa Spain.

And maybe a seat on the first shuttle for civilians to space. But for the moment, she was content to run her business, spend time with her friends and watch wizards and witches get schooled on the ways of Muggle life.

At least that's what she kept telling herself. If Hermione was honest, it kind of hurt to watch all of her friends go through life's milestones while she had to watch. She felt there were enormous benefits to being single like "it's okay if the only person you talk to all ay is your cat" and "no one cares if you eat dinner out of the pot is was cooked in, in your underwear standing at the stove."

A single girl can only go to so many bridal showers and weddings and house warming parties and "Yay, we have a kid and isn't it the greatest because we're clearly the first people to have a child, ever?!" gatherings before it starts to chip away at things like confidence and personal security.

Hermione hated to admit it, but she was realizing that there were benefits to being part of an "us." (But never a "we"-- that was too infuriating to consider. And it was so condescending to be on the receiving end of a "_We_ have decided to buy a house, a dog, try for a kid, only invite couples to our dinner parties.)

Hermione decided that after this next week she would take a vacation for the first time in three years. After all, she had never actually been to her private island in the Bahamas.

**.....................**

Hermione stumbled out of bed and then stumbled to the bathroom where she took in her reflection. Her bushy hair had been wrassled into semi-submission with a Japanese hair whispering treatment that hadn't tamed her hair so much as soothed it. She took a quick shower, dressed and wandered downstairs to her kitchen where she had her first of five cups of coffee for the day.

"Maybe I should just build a Starbucks next to my kitchen. I mean, I do have the money for it," Hermione thought and then dismissed it as quickly as it came into her mind.

"Nah, waiting in line is part of the experience," she continued out loud.

"Talking to yourself again," Ginny Weasley said with a smile as she breezed into Hermione's back door to the table where Hermione was sitting. Ginny dropped a stack of papers in front of Hermione and then headed to the refrigerator where she grabbed nacho cheese dip and hunted through the cupboards until a bag of potato chips were located. Ginny sat herself at the table and dug into the chips.

"Naho cheeth may juth be one of the beth Muggle inventhons in the world," Ginny said through a mouthful.

"Yes, we'll put it up there with running water, electricity and sliced bread," Hermione replied rolling her eyes. "Did you bring me the guest list for this week?"

"Yeah, ith on tha bottom," Ginny said and swallowed. "I think we're going to be in for quite a challenge."

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked as she scrolled down the list. "I am always ready to change the misconceptions our guests have about the Muggle worl--".

Hermione paused and visibly blanched at the last three names on the list. She choked on her coffee and Ginny had to pound on her back as Hermione spluttered and snorted.

"I'm okay, -hack- wheeze- snort- I'm okay, Ginny. Just went down the wrong tube, that's all."

"So, what was it you were saying about challenging misconceptions and all that?" Ginny asked when Hermione had recovered.

"I, uh, yeah. I love a challenge, I guess," Hermione said half-heartedly. "Or at least I did. Whatever. I mean, they are choosing to come here and paying a lot of money for the privilege. It'll be fine," said Hermione with a forced smile.

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"It will. Watch me," Hermione said with more conviction than she felt. "Now I need to go take care of accommodations and stuff. C'mon, let's get crackin'."

Hermione and Ginny headed out to face the day and a breeze from the kitchen door slamming caused a piece of paper to flutter gently to the floor in next to Crookshanks' bowl of food.

It had the list of guest coming to stay in the next week and the list ended with "Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and the Malfoy family, all requesting the 'Total Muggle Experience.'"

…………………

Hermione decided to put all thoughts of the impending Malfoy/Zabini arrival out of her mind. There was work to be done around the resort. Hermione and Ginny went to the office, which was located in the first house all guests would see. Hermione kept all information pertaining to the resort in a magically locked file cabinet. She also had a Muggle computer that few if any guests would have been able to hack. Like any of them could turn the damn thing on anyway. Well, at least not until they received their training in Muggle electronics.

Ideal Street Resort was on a typical suburban street in the Morningside suburb of Edinburgh. Close enough to Prince's Street, the train station and the Royal Mile that guests would be able to walk to the various places and not worry about getting too lost.

The resort itself was much like the entrance to a magical building the Ministry of Magic. On the outside, it looked like a typical brownstone apartment building but the secret was on the other side. Ideal Street Resort was comprised of six living guest homes for the guests, the main office, a dining hall/theatre and surrounding the entirety of the back of the resort was a huge playing field and forest complete with a babbling brook and various hiding places for woodland creatures. To Muggles, the area where the forest was looked like a huge Asda, but whenever they got within fifty feet of the area, they suddenly wondered if they'd left the gas on and felt the need to hurry home.

For the sake of her sanity, Hermione had chosen to out the office of the Resort in a separate building. This forced her to be outside at least five minutes of every day. She counted walking to and from her house to her office as exercise and getting her precious vitamin D.

Needless to say, Hermione ran a tight ship. She treated her employees well but demanded the best of their abilities. Hermione had always been into changing minds and the way things were done for the better. She wanted her guests to have the best experience possible and to come away from Ideal Street resort with a new respect and understanding for the Muggle way of life. Having wizards and witches give up magic for seven days changed her guests in ways she and they had never imagined. Her office wall was filled with cards, letters and pictures from wizards and witches who had enjoyed their time at Ideal Street Resort. She included some of the more glowing statements in the Ideal Street Resort pamphlets.

**"I have a new respect for Muggles. They have to do everything the hard way: everyday chores, traveling, taking care of animals. I have a new found appreciation for my magical way of life. Never again will I take for granted the ability to say where I want to be, throw a handful of Floo powder and appear there a moment later. Muggle buses have nothing on magical buses." --June Sears, Birmingham, UK**

**"Muggle Sports Day was awesome. I can't wait to teach rugby to my friends. We're going to play by all the rules." **

**--Chad Benton, Ontario, Canada**

Whenever she was having a bad day or a stressful week, Hermione took a moment to read all of the compliments for her creation. Counting her piles of money helped as well.

Hermione and Ginny worked late into the evening to make sure everything was perfect for the Malfoys. Hermione had a compulsion to show the Malfoys, especially Draco, that Muggleborns were just as adept at playing the money and success game. New money or old money, money is money.

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Thanks for reading! FM


	2. In Antacids We Trust

Muggling It

By Fiji Mermaid

Disclaimer: I own nothing and intend no copyright infringement. All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 2: In Antacids We Trust

"**Part of the appeal of Ideal Street resort is the tough love approach used in the Total Muggle Experience (TME) package. Guests are instantly thrust into the Muggle world via Muggle transportation. For wizards and witches arriving from a country outside of Great Britain, air travel is the desired transportation, followed by buses or trains. For wizards and witches arriving from within the Great Isle, train transportation is preferred."**

**-- From Ideal Street Resort's glossy pages**

Hermione took deep yoga breaths as she waited with Ginny for the Malfoys to arrive in the Edinburgh train station. Blaise and Pansy would be arriving later in the day and Hermione was definitely going to have her hands full.

"It's like a god damn family reunion," Hermione said to Ginny. "I don't know whether to pretend to be nice and be the polite person I am or if I should get drunk like I do with my crazy aunt Mona and embarrass myself by singing karaoke."

"C'mon Hermione. It won't be that bad. People have changed since the war. The Malfoys are practically pussycats in comparison of what they used to be like," Ginny replied.

"I guess you're right. Maybe I'm the one who hasn't changed. Maybe it's time to start anew, to ring in a new era of forgiveness and understanding," Hermione said grandly.

"Or, maybe it's time for one last swig of your favorite adult beverage that I know is hiding in your purse because the Malfoys have arrived," Ginny said.

And indeed they had. The Malfoys stumbled onto the platform and looked around dazedly. Narcissa seemed apprehensive while Lucius was studying the ceiling of the train station and sneaking looks at the Muggle ladies that hurried past him when he thought Narcissa wasn't watching. (She knew anyway. Women always do.) Draco was trying for a look of disinterest but Hermione could tell he was somewhat nervous. And hot.

Wait.

Draco Malfoy was hot? Hermione shook her head and cast that thought aside. She took one last shot of fire whiskey and strode confidently towards her former enemies, a smile on her face that inched towards a grimace. Ginny dawdled behind.

"Mister and Missus Malfoy, welcome. I hope your trip went well?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, yes. It was most interesting. So many different kinds of Muggles on those locomotions," Lucius said.

"Trains, dear. We were on a train. Not a locomotive. Those are only used for unknowing tourists who think the UK has no running water," Narcissa gently explained to her husband.

"Let's follow Ginny to the car," Hermione said ushering the not-so-evil-anymore couple ahead of her.

Hermione turned around. "Malfoy."

"Granger."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

"Why are you here? You hate Muggles, not to mention Muggleborns," Hermione said.

"Granger, I just want to let you know that I would have lost my inheritance and my job if I hadn't come along with my parents. I'm not here to better myself in anyway whatsoever. Are we clear?'

"Yes, Malfoy. You're jealous of my business acumen and still under your parent's thumb. Got it."

"Good- wait. No, I'm a grown man I--"

"Hermione, Malfoy, come on," Ginny yelled across the station.

"I'm just here because of my parents okay?" Malfoy snapped.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Can we get a move on?"

"Fine."

"Great."

"Wonderful."

Hermione and Draco glared at each other for a few more seconds before Hermione broke the staring contest and strode away towards the cab and an impatient Ginny. It was going to be a strange and confusing seven days.

"And here is where you will be staying during your time here at Ideal Street Resort. It's a 100% authentic Muggle house that you will find in any suburb of Great Britain," Hermione explained.

She paused in her tour to let the Malfoys wander around the living room of the house they would be occupying for the next seven days. The living room was painted a tasteful shade of gray that matched Draco's eyes, which he was most pleased to note. It was furnished with tastefully well-made furniture that one would find in a Pottery Barn catalogue and a higher quality than Ikea.

Tasteful rugs covered the tastefully varnished wood floor. Tasteful non-moving photographs of country fields and furry coos lined the walls in both color and black and white. There was tasteful lighting, a huge yet tasteful big screen television and tasteful curtains on the windows. The only thing that wasn't tasteful in the entire house was a stack of gossip magazines including _Heat!_, _Grazia_ and _Hello!_. They were Hermione's weakness and she hated to see them go to waste in the recycling bin so to appease her guilt she left old copies for the guests.

She told herself it was an important part of their Muggle education.

Hermione couldn't help but notice that Lucius was uncharacteristically mellow. He didn't even put up a fight when Hermione said they needed to give up their wands, unlike Draco. He had threatened her with curses she didn't even know existed should she fail to give them back their wands at the end of their stay. A whispered word from Narcissa ended the hysterics but Draco continued to try and kill Hermione with his eyes. Hermione did her best to ignore those "piercing, malicious, beautiful, intense eyes. Wait, how did a 'beautiful' get in there. I meant to say 'cold', yeah, cold. Great now I'm talking to myself again," Hermione thought to herself. "Too many self's," she thought again.

Shaking her…self out of her conversation with her rebellious mind, Hermione continued the tour of the "Tasteful Muggle Home." Ideal Street Resort offered beautiful lodgings, but a house is not a home. These houses were more like hotels—clean and crisp--rather than Muggle homes which tend to be lived in and show their wear and tear. The first day of any first-time guest's stay was spent adapting to the loss of their wands and other magical perks. Someone, usually Hermione or Ginny, showed the guests how to make a cup of tea and delivered their meals until the next day, which was "learning about your new kitchen" day.

The horrors instructors had seen involving un-charmed gas stoves and running water. So many innocent cookie lives had been lost. So many tiled floors had to be re-grouted. Oh, the humanity.

But that is a tale for the next chapter.

Hermione patiently went through the non-magical tea brewing process with the Malfoys. Again. And again.

Lucius was uncharacteristically pleasant and curious, almost Mr. Weasley-esque and asked where the magic came from to make the water heat up and how the tea stayed in the bag and yet was able to come out an how the refrigerator also ran on cold magic and the way the light came on as soon as the door was opened and then shut off and then it came on again and then it shut off...again!

Feeling the beginning of a tension headache, Hermione closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a strange, confusing and really long seven days.

Draco Malfoy still couldn't understand how he had arrived at Ideal Street Resort. Well, he knew how he had gotten there, on those godforsaken train carriages, packed in like a sardine up against Muggles and their Muggle cooties. What he couldn't understand was why he was here at Ideal Street Resort: Now Entering Muggleville! with his _parents_.

Draco could not quite believe the changes that had taken place in his parents since the war.

Lucius "Former Right-Hand Man of the Dark Lord Voldemort --Formerly Known as Tom Marvolo Riddle--, Complete Bad-Ass, Even His Hair is Fiercer Than Yours and He's a Guy, Haha, So There" Malfoy had built an enterprise based on improving relations between Purebloods and the hoi polloi of magical society. "Striving for Understanding" had replaced the old Malfoy motto of "Money and Greed Are All That One Needs." It broke Draco's heart every time he had to say it.

Narcissa Malfoy had also done a complete 180 on her personality since she had saved Harry Potter and thus inadvertently won the war for the "good guys." Both of his parents had apparently seen the error of their ways and now spent their time improving relations between Purebloods and other magical folk as a happy couple.

They were kind of Hermione Granger's wet dream: "Former baddies had a change of heart and now want to save all the ickle wickle magical cweatures and spread rainbows and happiness across the land! Yay!"

It was enough to make Draco sick.

Lucius Malfoy hadn't completely changed his personality despite appearances Lucius Malfoy was not as rich as he was thanks to only familial inheritances. Lucius knew that people loved a sinner redeemed and so had made a lot of money on his new and improved endeavors. Draco was not about turn down shit loads of money so he worked with his parents at Magnanimous Malfoy Enterprises but god; it really killed him to see his father be so god damned…nice. All. The. Time.

Draco had a feeling some Muggle "pharmaceuticals" were also involved but couldn't beat his father at Lucius' own games so he had to believe it really was a change of heart and his parents really had seen the light. Or at least the Galleon and Knut signs.

Draco now worked for the family company because he couldn't be bothered to find a real job. He'd flown for a quidditch team in Australia for five after the War but had to quit when he'd broken all of the seeker records in the Australian Quidditch record books. Draco liked challenges but couldn't be bothered to break his own records. Where's the fun in that? He had also worked his way through the women on the eastern and southern coasts of Australia. Leaving a large number of women with broken hearts with a smaller number promising revenge, Draco had returned to England six months previous.

If he was honest, Draco was also trying to protect his inheritance before his parents gave it all away. Hence, his job at the family company. He spent his days plotting devious things but they had all amounted to nothing more than a warning from his mother that he could either help out or lose his dwindling inheritance. Draco wasn't stupid and stayed at the company. He couldn't even plot anymore because he had a feeling Narcissa could read his mind.

Mothers usually can.

Draco brought himself out of his reverie and sighed. Disappointed to still be standing in the kitchen of this fake-ass Muggle house watching Hermione "Bushy-Haired--At Least It Used to Be--and She's Still Smarter Than You and She Might Even Be Richer Than You" Granger, patiently teach his parents how to make tea, of all things. Draco was beginning to see some cracks in Hermione's façade of patience. Draco smirked one of his famous smirks and was about to make one of his famous snide comments when non other than Saint Harry Potter tripped through the kitchen door.

'Mr. and Missus Malfoy," he said out of breath. "So nice to see you."

"Please, call me Narcissa and I'm sure Lucius won't mind if you call him Lucius," Narcissa said brightly.

"Right. Of course, Mis--Narcissa," Harry replied. He glanced around the room and noticed Draco.

"Malfoy," Harry said grudgingly

"Potter," Draco drawled. God, how he loved his own drawl. And yes, he did practice, athankyouverymuch.

Harry stared at Draco without any emotion for a few moments and then turned his attention to Hermione.

"Hermione, the course is ready," Harry told her.

"Oh, thank Go- I mean, wonderful. The Malfoys have successfully mastered the art of non-magical tea making."

Hermione turned to the Malfoys. "If you would be so kind as to follow Harry and me outside, we're going to start with the third phase of your transformation: trust-building."

Draco groaned. This didn't sound good.

Hermione took four aspirin with a swig of antacid surreptitiously. She was not looking forward to this particular bonding experience.

"**Once you have arrived at Ideal Street Resort and settled into your lodgings, you, the staff and the other guests will participate in a trust-building exercise. This is an important part of the Ideal Street alteration from magic dependent to can-do wizard! Adapted from various businesses around the world, the trust-building exercise allows you to share and then work through your fears and worries with employees and other guests. Don't worry, everyone is nervous their first time on the trust platform. Once you make that leap backwards, you have nowhere else to go but forwards!"**

**--From the Ideal Street Resort pamphlet**

It wasn't good.

Draco thought the train and the tea making had been bad. This was even worse.

Draco was actually really nervous but he would rather drink an entire bottle of Fire Whiskey than admit his fears and fall backwards off a platform into the waiting arms of his fellow concentration camp members, er, the other guests. Draco moved quietly backward through the crowd. He accidentally stepped on someone's foot.

"Pardon me, oh Blaise. Thank god you're here. Can you believe this shit?" Draco hissed at his friend.

"No comment," Blaise said while rolling his eyes and motioned to his left where Pansy Parkinson stood.

"Draco! It's so good to see you!" pansy squealed. "Isn't this exciting? I'm going to be so popular when we get back. I can't wait to tell them about all the hilarious and humiliating things that happen to you, I mean, us!"

"Yeah, it's going to be great," Draco said giving her a strange look. "What brings you-?"

Pansy shushed Draco and shrieked "Yay! We're starting. Oh My Gosh! Is that Hermione? She looks sooo different!" Pansy said to Blaise and Draco.

Hermione was standing on a platform raised about 4 feet in the air speaking to the small crowd of about 20 people gathered around.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to stay with us at ideal Street resort. We're so excited to be able to provide you with this Muggle experience and we're heartened by the fact that you've all come here to learn more about your non-magical neighbors. This exercise is about building trust with us, the employees and you and your fellow wizards. We want to show to you that we're all equals here and no one is above another. Let's begin. Ginny." Hermione motioned to her red-haired friend and Ginny stepped up to the front of the platform.

She began to speak, "The exercise is as follows. One person at a time, you will step up to the top of the platform and introduce yourself. We had everyone write down their hopes and fears concerning Muggles or the Ideal Street experience. You will read your hope and/or fear from your card and then turn around and take a step off of the platform, backwards, where the waiting crowd will catch you to show that your fears and hopes are accepted by the crowd's waiting arms, like this."

Ginny turned around, and to Draco's eyes at least, _leapt_ off of the platform into Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom's expectant arms. Ginny leapt back to her feet and beamed at the crowd. Draco felt his stomach drop. How was he going to get out of this?

The first victim, er, guest bounded up the stairs eagerly. "I am Pansy Parkinson- soon to be Zabini," she flashed her blinding diamond engagement ring to the crowd which gasped appreciatively. "I hope that my time at Ideal Street Resort will give me a better appreciation of my Magical Life as I go through the hardships of Muggle life. And I already love the tasteful interior of our guest house!" Pansy turned and landed in the eager arms of the crowd who set her down and then cheered.

Narcissa was next. "I am thrilled to be here. Ever since the defeat of Lord Voldemort"—gasps from some of the crowd—"I have been working with my husband and son to improve the attitudes that Purebloods have towards folk less fortunate than themselves. I am ready and willing to live like a Muggle for the next seven days," and she took another graceful leap of faith.

The line was getting shorter. Draco was beginning to sweat. Not actually perspire, he was too cool for that, but Draco was beginning to rue the day he had ever been a twinkle in his parents' eye. Draco could not believe he was about to humiliate himself in front of Gryffindors, especially Potter and Granger. A plan began to form in his mind

All too soon it was Draco's turn and his traitorous feet brought him up the platform where he stared out at the expectant crowd that was silent and appreciative of his beauty, naturally. Draco smirked and began speaking.

"Most of you know who I am and the rest of you should. You know that I world for my parents and that I have a slightly checkered past when it comes to Muggles and Muggle-born wizards."

He stopped to glare at Harry who had let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like "ferret." Harry gave Draco a look that puppies who have eaten the Thanksgiving turkey and know they are in trouble but are "oh so cute!" that you can't be mad at them, are known to give.

Draco raised an eyebrow and continued. Hermione took another swig of her antacid, wishing it were something stronger.

"As I was saying, I have a few prejudices towards Muggles but they are borne out of ignorance which is not always bliss, as in this case. I am looking forward to being proven wrong about my intolerances and I am especially looking forward to working with my former classmates," Draco simpered looking at Ginny and Hermione. "We have so much to catch up on and I really hope that you catch me now," Draco said and the crowd laughed.

He threw them one of his most winning smiles and turned around to take his leap of faith.

"Lord, have mercy. He is a lying fool," Hermione said to Ginny as the crowd caught a triumphant Draco. He caught Hermione's eye and gave her a saucy wink.

"A hot, lying fool," Ginny corrected her.

"Ahem, you're married," Hermione replied.

"And you are on your way to spinsterhood. Well, you were until Draco and his quicksilver eyes showed up," Ginny said with a smile.

Hermione kept her mouth shut. Some thoughts should be kept to oneself. Like the fact that the arrow on Hermione's personal "Draco Malfoy Gauge" was mutinously moving from "Blinding White Hot Hatred of a Man Who Cannot Be Redeemed" to "Blinding White Hot Hatred of a Man Who Can Be Slightly, Grudgingly, Bettered."

Only six and a half more days.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I try to reply with PMs but some people have them turned off, so thank you to: Velvet Storm, Spellbound Slave, DBM33, Lady-Draco79, winter ice blue and Moronicisus.


	3. Bird Watching for the Blind

Muggling It (Now with 60% more snark!)

By Fiji Mermaid

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story idea. All other flotsam and jetsam are the property of J.K. Rowling. Rated M for Hermione's potty mouth.

Chapter 3: Bird Watching for the Blind

**_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

Draco and Hermione were being domestic. At least, they were trying. Draco was feigning ignorance regarding the cookie making process. Hermione's blood pressure was in the danger zone.

Draco was having more fun than he ever thought possible. While standing in line to confess his sins against Muggle-kind the day before, Draco decided that instead of being the miserable, snooty git everyone expected him to be, he would take a page of out of Ron Weasley's book and be a bumbling yet charming idiot. He knew it would drive Hermione insane.

He was also hoping it would lead to some action of the sexual variety. Hermione had surprised the hell out of him a few months ago when his parents first received the pamphlet with Hermione's smiling face on the cover. He grudgingly admitted to himself that she was actually quite pretty. Now, he was following his parents' example by letting bygones be bygones and allow Hermione teach him stupid Muggle things, like baking cookies.

Of course he already knew how to make cookies--he's Draco Malfoy. He also knew how to press Granger's buttons. They had been in the kitchen for two hours and Hermione was clearly at the end of her rope. Draco had done everything wrong he could think of.

First, he just threw the still packaged dough onto the tray and placed it in the oven. He proceeded to talk about himself in the third person and precisely 30 minutes and 23.45 seconds later, Hermione had to show him how to shut off the fire detector by opening all the doors and windows while someone else fanned the detector with a broom.

Draco pretended he was scared of the detector and enjoyed himself while Hermione and her cute little ass jumped around on a table with a broom. He then feigned innocence when Hermione demanded to know where the other package of dough had gone while she was opening the windows and doors. Draco just smiled one of his famously brilliant and beautiful smiles that caused women and girls to swoon on contact with his dazzling features.

Hermione clearly didn't believe him and was definitely not dazzled. She gave him a "Look" and said, "Draco. You are holding a spoon and a half eaten package of the dough. I, unlike you, did not just fall off the turnip truck. I hope you get salmonella."

"Then you would have to care for me and cater to my every whim. What's a turnip truck?" Draco had replied.

"Do you even know what salmonella is?"

"A great name for two turtles? Ow, Granger. No need to resort to violence," Draco had said as he rubbed his hand. "I can't believe you just smacked me with a wooden spoon! Did you ever think about applying for a job as a lunch lady? I'm sure they'd make an exception for your bushy hair and wouldn't make you wear a hat."

"Draco No Middle Name Malfoy, the only job you are ever going to get is as a blind bird-watcher. Also, my hair looks so much better than yours ever did, does or will."

Draco gasped like a little girl and said, "Hermione Jane 'why do I even know your middle name' Granger, you can't even make cookie dough from scratch."

"Yes, I can. Tell me, how do you fuck up pre-made cookie dough? All you have to do is open the package, roll the dough into balls, put them on a tray and put that tray into the already heated oven and then set the timer. What the hell is wrong with you?!" Hermione screeched exasperatedly.

"Language, Granger. Rome wasn't built in a day," Draco drawled, of course.

"The Romans were an incredibly advanced civilization who gave the world aqueducts, democracy and rules of law still followed to this day," Hermione replied.

"They also had vomitoriums, gladiator fights and their civilization crumbled much like these cookies. What's your point?"

"My point is, had the Romans had pre-packaged cookie dough, gas stoves and timers, they would have been able to get them a perfect, chewy, delicious, golden brown, unlike you," Hermione punctuated her statement with a foot stamp.

"Did you just stomp your foot at me?" a highly amused Draco asked.

"Why, can't you remember? It just happened Malfoy. I'm fairly sure you were here 10 seconds ago. Why are you laughing? I hate you," Hermione humphed, annoyed with herself for resorting to childish antics in her frustration.

"Okay you two, break it up," Ginny said jumping up from the kitchen table where she been eating popcorn as she watched the two engage in foreplay. "Draco obviously cannot grasp the concept of cooking for himself. We'll let it slide--he's slightly inbred. They can't help these things."

"Hey, I am not an inbred. I'm a member of the aristocracy, there's a difference" he said slightly offended.

"Ah, yeah and they're all married to each other's cousin thrice removed on their sister's side. Therefore, inbred," Hermione said in an "annoyed beyond all belief" tone.

"Hermione, you have a point, She does," Ginny said jumping in before Draco could reply. "I think you should take a break. Why don't I teach Draco how to load the dishwasher?"

"That's a great idea, Ginny," Draco said with a different stunningly brilliant smile. "Let's be sure to save some soap to wash out Granger's mouth."

Hermione was unable to form a coherent reply.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers: margaritama, HarryPGinnyW4eva, Spellbound Slave, Velvet Storm and "anon."


	4. World Wide Wonders

**Muggling It**

By Fiji Mermaid

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the lucrative property of J.K. Rowling. I am making no money whatsoever off of this. There is no intention of copyright infringement.

**___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

**Chapter 4: World Wide Wonders**

(Rated M for sexual practice, er, explanations. Just covering my ass…ets.)

**___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

"**At Ideal Street Resort, comprehensive use of Muggle communication devices is key. Wizards and witches will have lessons regarding the proper use of landline phones, mobile phones, GPS devices, iPods and most importantly, the Internet. No foray into Muggle life is complete without the universal globalization device that is the World Wide Web. Explore the Earth from: outer space, beneath the oceans or mountain tops. Engage in lively on-line Muggle debates concerning politics, the latest celebrity gossip or the funniest videos of the minute. The possibilities are endless! The world will be your oyster and it can all be found at your fingertips. What are you waiting for?!"**

**-- From the Ideal Street Resort Handbook**

………………………………………………………………………………………………

While Hermione was daydreaming of ways to stuff Draco in the dishwasher, Harry Potter was having what he was sure must be an out of body experience. He was prank-calling people with Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, the man who had used Harry's wife for his nefarious purposes while Harry and Ginny were at Hogwarts. The former criminal mastermind was now laughing his ass off while he pranked unsuspecting Muggles.

"Ring, ring. Ring, ri--"

"Hello?"

"Ahem, yes, is your refrigerator running?"

"Well, I think so. Why do you ask?"

"Then you'd better go catch it!" Lucius managed to get out before he slammed the phone down and exploded in a fit of giggles. He calmed down enough to ask Harry for another number.

"Ring, ring."

"Good afternoon! Hog's Head Pub. How may I help you?" the voice at the other end inquired.

"Good afternoon to you too, my good man. Tell me, is there an 'Amanda Huggandkiss' at your fine establishment?" Lucius asked while snickering behind his hand.

"Oh, let me see. Just a moment," the voice said and set the phone down with a clunk.

A little fainter but still discernable through the speaker phone came, "Excuse me, is there an Amanda Huggandkiss? I need 'Amanda Huggandkiss," the barkeep yelled. Through the wolf whistles and cat calls, Harry heard the barkeep yell, "What, whaaat?"

"Oi Jimbo, mate, you just been punked," a fine member of the drinking class yelled to poor Jim.

Jim got back on the phone and told Lucius and Harry to "go fuck themselves" and never call again. This sent Lucius to the floor, where he screamed with laughter as he rolled around holding his stomach while Harry continued to look on in amazement. Either Lucius had had a brain transplant or he was on some very trippy meds. Before Harry had time to distract Lucius' attention, Lucius had dialed a new number. Harry's mobile started ringing and he hoped against hope it was Ginny or Ron calling to rescue him.

"Excuse me, Lucius, I need to take this call," Harry said as he hightailed it out of the guesthouse library. He snapped open his phone. "Hello?" Harry said.

"Ohhhhhh, hellloooooo! How are you this fine spring day?" the caller inquired in a shaky old-lady voice.

"I'm fine, thanks. What can I do for you?" Harry asked.

"Well, I was wondering if there was a Harry Pothead about. I wish to speak to him about some important business matters," the caller requested.

"This is Harry," Harry said, making an allowance for the fact that telemarketers always got his last name wrong.

"So it's true?" the voice asked.

"What's true?" Harry said slightly annoyed at this point.

"THAT YOU'RE A POT HEAD!" the caller yelped. Harry could then hear Lucius' laughter coming from the library. Harry sighed, disgusted with himself. He walked back into the library.

"Honestly Lucius, you're acting like a child. I can't believe—" Harry stopped as Lucius held up a finger and put it to his lips. He was on the phone, again.

"Yes, hello. Do you have Prince Albert in a can?" Lucius asked the poor unsuspecting Muggle on the other end. He paused for the response and then bellowed, "YOU'D BETTER LET HIM OUT!" and slammed the phone down to commence howling with laughter. "Haaaaaaa ha hahaha! Oldest one in the book," Lucius gasped out between chortles.

Harry couldn't help join in with a chuckle. There was something so endearing about seeing this powerful, some might say terrifying, man, lose it over some prank calls. Lucius plus Prozac was clearly a match made in…Pfizer.

**________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

Hermione Granger would never admit to anyone, but the way Draco looked when he was soaked in water from trying to wrangle the sprayer was really, really hot. His white shirt clung to his back muscles and Hermione tried not to stare every time he bent down to load a plate or a fork in the dishwasher. Ginny had already caught her staring once, okay, three times. After Draco and Ginny finished the dishwasher lesson, Draco wandered off to find his father and Harry. They were going to learn about something called "the interwebnets."

Ginny and Hermione sat across from each other at the kitchen table, drinking tea and eating raw cookie dough Hermione had managed to hide from Draco.

"Ginny, do you think I might be doing too much with my life?" Hermione asked wearily.

"Well, I think you are doing too much in certain areas of your life and there are cobwebs in other areas, youknowwhatimean? Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge," Ginny said playfully.

"Like, where?"

"Um, well in your--, actually, Hermione, do not make me spell it out," Ginny said.

"Okaaay, but is it normal to think a guy is hot because of the way his shirt clings to him and then in the next thought, want to push him into the appliance he is standing in front of?"

"Mmmm hmmmm. I see." Ginny raised an eyebrow as she pondered her next statement. Hermione really had it bad. Ending a sentence with a preposition was just not like her.

"Is there something you need to tell me about? Some kind of problem that maybe I can help you solve?" Ginny asked.

"Unless you can figure out a way to help me avoid Draco Malfoy for the next six days and preferably the rest of my life, then no, you cannot help me with my problems."

"Ahh, so it's a Boy Problem!"

"No need to capitalize boy problem. He just really irks me. He gets under my skin without even saying a word. I mean, I know I'm kind of high-strung, no need to roll your eyes, but I have just been at ends since I found out _He_ was going to be here. What is wrong with me?" Hermione asked and shoved a heaping spoonful of cookie dough in her mouth.

"Well, Hermione, in every wizard and witch's life there comes a time when they begin to notice the opposite sex, or the same sex, I don't judge, in ways they id not notice them before. This is called 'exploring one's sexuality.' This leads to—"

"Oh, sod off Ginny. I know what sex is. I'm not exactly a rosy-cheeked virgin. Ron and I did have sex and there have been a few random one-night stands," Hermione said indignantly.

"When's the last time you had relations with a male?" Ginny asked with a giggle.

"Well, there was that, no we didn't get past snogging. And then there was that guy who liked wearing women's underpants. That ended quickly. That I guy I met in Spain, ooo he was a weirdo," Hermione thought out loud while counting on her fingers. "Okay, 18 months," Hermione finally confessed.

"A year and a half?" Ginny screeched. "Oh my god, Hermione. No wonder you have the hots for the first hot guy to come your way in like, ages. You have a lot of pent up sexual tension sitting on the burner and Malfoy has just turned it to 'broil.'"

"Um, maybe more like, lukewarm," Hermione countered.

"Okay, simmer."

"Room temperature."

"Deal," Ginny finished, holding out her hand to shake. Hermione took Ginny's hand with a look of consternation on her face.

"Okay, here's what we need to do," Ginny began. "Malfoy already has something he's cooking up so we need to counter-strike with a nonchalant offensive and catch him off guard. What I want you to do is…" Ginny continued to school Hermione on the nuances of non-chalantness while Hermione studiously took notes.

Old habits die hard.

**______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

Hermione stood outside the library with a cup of tea. Harry was hopefully just finishing teaching the ex-Slytherins all he knew about the Internet. Hermione hoped they had gotten beyond the ESPN websites. She was about to knock when the door opened and Harry, Blaise and Lucius walked out laughing.

Laughing?

"Why hello, Hermione. Harry here was just teaching us the finer points of something called "rugby". Terribly brutish game, that," Blaise said pleasantly.

"Some of those blokes are the size of my smaller china cabinets," Lucius added.

Harry looked at Hermione and shrugged. They were both thinking, Lucius and Blaise could not possible sound more stereotypically English. All they needed was an "Ello, Gunvnuh!" and maybe a "Pip, Pip. Cheerio!" and then Bob would be their uncle.

"Well, Hermione. Harry. I think we'll be off for a spot of tea," Blaise said with a bow in her direction. Was it possible that he could read minds? Hermione made a note to consider the possibility later. She gave a slight nod and turned to Harry.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"Fairly well considering Lucius was unable to type with more than two fingers at a time. He really took to the FlooTube site. We should keep and eye on the three of them. Make sure they don't do anything...attention-grabbing," Harry warned.

"Thanks for the warning, Harry. You look a little frazzled. Maybe you should join Ginny for a cup of tea?" Hermione suggested.

"Yeah, sure. It's been a trying day. Oh, and ah, Malf--Draco is still in there. I just know he's up to something, " Harry said. He turned and walked away from Hermione before she could ask any more questions. Harry couldn't believe what he put up with at Ideal Street Resort some days. The Boy Who Lived showing two ex-Slytherins how to sign up for an email account? It was laughably insane. Thank god he was only here for another five days.

Auror paperwork had never been so appealing to him.

................................................................

Hermione closed her eyes as Harry walked away and steeled herself for what was to come. Hermione just knew that whatever Draco was up to, she would have to go it alone.

Draco shot Hermione a huge grin when he saw her walk into the room.

"How's my favorite Muggle-born witch?" he asked brightly.

"Ugh, save it, Malfoy. What are you up to?" she snapped.

"Hermione, I'm hurt," he replied with big puppy dog eyes. "I thought maybe I'd started to change your opinion of me."

"Just spit it out, Malfoy. Dinner will be served in half an hour. The whole Resort is required to attend and I still have planning to do for tomorrow," she replied in a bored tone.

"Fine, if you insist." Draco said. "Granger, what's 'pr0n'?"

Then: "Are you okay? Can I assist you?" he asked as Hermione choked on the tea she had been in the process of swallowing.

Snort--Splutter--

"Ahem. Draco, why do you need to know?" Hermione asked.

"Well it's just that I'm on this pagescreen thing and these guys keep talking about something called 'WoW' (he pronounced it "wow!") and 'pr0n'" Draco explained.

"Oh God why me?" Hermione inquired out loud. She heaved a dramatic sigh. "Malfoy, I'm a little concerned. I'm starting to get the feeling that Ideal Street Resort's Muggle values are going right over your head."

"Granger, dear. I have done everything you've asked of me thus far. It hurts me that you doubt me so," Malfoy said looking wounded.

Hermione glared at him for a moment while an internal struggle took place.

Sigh. "Fine, 'pr0n' is Internet speak for 'porn'," Hermione grudgingly explained.

"What's porn?" Draco inquired looking oh-so innocent.

Like he doesn't know what porn is, Hermione thought to herself. However, in the name of Muggle—Wizard understanding, she forged ahead.

"Porn is where men and women, or women and women or men and men or a variety of the aforementioned, engage in sexual activity ranging from vanilla missionary to scary S and M bondage type activities while taping themselves and then letting the world see, either for fun or for profit," Hermione explained. She was unable to meet Draco's eyes and just knew he would be smirking.

Was she blushing? Damn it.

"Interesting." He paused. "So, do you, ah, want to watch some with me?" Draco asked with a mischievous smile.

Hermione briefly considered telling him: A) No, she found porn to be a patriarchal institution that insisted on the degradation of women and their sexuality so that men could keep them down while getting their rocks off; B) No, Draco couldn't handle the kind of sexual practices she was into; or C) Yes, what the hell.

Hermione knew that option "A" would bore Draco to tears. He would stop listening at "I find" and then block out the rest of her soapbox speech. Option "B" would only serve to titillate Draco's gutter mind and Hermione didn't have the energy to think something up.

She was feeling rather devious, however and decided to go with "C", otherwise known as "Option Shock and Awe." Draco wouldn't be expecting her to agree and thus, would have to concede a point to Hermione in the game that neither acknowledged they were playing but both were aware of the stakes.

………

"Okay," Hermione said with a small smile and a cute shrug of her shoulders. She added a little shake of her smooth hair for good measure. Operation Get Some Action commenced as Draco's jaw dropped and he was clearly at loss for words. Hermione pulled up a chair and snuggled in close to Draco. (And, girl, he smelled _good_. Damn him and his slithery ferret ways.)

Draco recovered from his complete and utter shock gracefully. When Hermione pulled up a chair, he simply smirked and casually draped his left arm around Hermione's chair.

"So, Granger. What's your fancy? Horny housewife shags the pool boy? Secretary and the boss late night in the office? Chubby chasers?" he asked with an impish smile.

"Those are a little, overdone, don't you think? What about 'man dressed as ferret is caught by stunning female lawyer?'" Hermione threw out.

"I never took you for a furry fan, Granger. Maybe we should call it a draw?" Draco suggested upon realizing that he might be out of his league. "Speaking of lawyers, why did you quit working in the Ministry's legal department any way?"

"I quit the legal world when I realized I hadn't seen sunlight in two months. It was time for a change," Hermione replied. "Don't try to change the subject," she scolded. "Back to your proposal. Why don't we can the watching together idea and do something more productive like, you help me run through the Muggle Sporting Events Day that is tomorrow."

"But that's so boring," he whined, pulling her a little closer.

Hermione's pot of water for Draco started to warm up a few degrees.

She turned and looked him in the eyes. He did the same. They moved their heads a little closer. Hermione felt Draco's breath on her cheek. Was he? Was she?

Hermione had just decided to make another move when "Ring, ring. Ring, ring," they were interrupted by the ringing of Hermione's mobile.

Draco pulled away and ran his hands through his hair. Shit, did he almost kiss Granger? He adjusted his shirt and made sure his hair looked awesome.

"Damn it," Hermione said as she rustled around in her jeans pocket. She was a little flustered and pushed a few random buttons –beep—squawk—before finding the green call key.

"Hermione Granger, owner and operator of Ideal Street Resort speaking. How may I help you?" she said brightly.

"Allo, ees Hairmyohneee Granjer zere?" the French sounding voice on the other line asked.

"Ah, yes, I just gave you my name," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes at Draco.

"Ah, oui. Well I am a calling from Frahnce. I was hoping zat you could help me identitfy zees artiste, being a Moogle expairt and all zat."

Draco frowned. There was something familiar about the caller's voice.

"Um, okay. Yeah sure," Hermione said.

"Okey, une minute," the caller said. "Alors, here we goh!"

Hermione strained to hear the song the caller was playing. She turned the volume up on her phone to "hard of hearing grandma loud."

"….Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you dow-ow-owwn…"

"I believe this song is called 'Never Ginna Give you Up, by Rick Astley," Hermione said. "Hello? HELLLOOOO? Is anyone there?"

Hermione heard a few muffled giggles in the background.

"You've just been Rick Rolled, suckah!!!" the person on the other line, whom Draco had identified as Lucius, shouted with glee.

The call ended abruptly and Hermione sat staring at the phone open mouthed.

"Granger, you'd better shut your mouth. Never know what might fly in there," Draco said. After a long pause with no response, he asked her "Are you okay," for the second time that day.

Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glared at Draco. "You, youu…" she said menacingly.

"Hey, don't blame me," Draco said, throwing his hands up defensively. "Lucius has been prank-calling people all day. I had nothing to do with this. You have to believe me," he pleaded as she continued to glare.

"You're related. You're involved by default," Hermione said.

"What? Granger, that makes no sense," Draco replied.

"Yeah, you're so involved in this. I can't believe I'm wasting my time on you and your stupid immature family. You don't care about Muggle _anything_. You found out I own this place and then decided to come and torment me. Well, not today. Hermione Granger does not get Rick Rolled or crank yanked or--"

"Grang—Hermione, seriously," Draco interrupted. "I had nothing to do with this. He called me while I was walking to the library to join Harry and Blaise and asked if I knew a Mya Buttreeks and when I said 'Maya Buttreeks' in the form of a question, I could hear all three of them laughing and then…I got…it," Draco finished lamely.

"The use of my first name only serves to make me more suspicious of you," Hermione snapped. "However, I realize that you would not repeat the phrase ' My butt reeks ' unless coerced. Therefore, I will grant you a reprieve and ask you to join forces with me as I come up with a way to get back at Lucius 'Slap-Happy' Malfoy. Agreed?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," Draco said quickly.

"Come, spawn of Senior Malfoy, we have much to discuss. First, I need to go over the sporting plans for tomorrow. You may come if you like," Hermione said and stomped out of the library.

Draco ran to catch up. "Hey, Herm—er, Granger. Will there be mascots there? Like, ones dressed up in big furry costumes?"

Draco ducked quickly to avoid the glass of water she threw at him.

"Violence is not the answer Granger," he shouted to her retreating form. "Although I may have deserved that," he muttered out loud. Draco decided against the idea of helping Hermione with Muggle Eventing Sports or whatever the hell they were.

He wandered out of the guesthouse hoping to find Blaise and then maybe a pub, preferably one that served alcohol. They could avoid the women and engage in the time honored tradition of 'drinking until they were no longer able see straight' and then stumble home from the chip shop singing loudly and incomprehensibly.

Men are the same in every world.

**_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

A/N: Look up Rick Rolling if you've never heard of it. It's a highly entertaining little prank.

Thank you to my awesomely, awesome reviewers: Mazzie May, Kristy Eve, margaritama, Countess Black, Spellbound Slave, Velvet Storm and HPGW4eva. You guys are fantastic!


	5. Weeki Watchee Wally World Part one

Muggling It

By Fiji Mermaid

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off of anything. All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Weeki Watchee is a real resort in Florida and Wally World is a real-fake resort in National Lampoon's Family Vacation.

A HUGE Thank You to Velvet Storm who came up with the idea of a Malfoy family road trip. Go check out her stuff--you won't be disappointed!

* * *

"**At Ideal Street resort, we encourage our guests to stray off the beaten path. Travel abroad is a learning experience that cannot be denied. There is little more interesting than being a tourist and nothing more so than engaging in other cultures through Muggle eyes."**

**----- From the Ideal Street Resort pamphlet**

**Chapter 5: Weeki Watchi Wally World (Part One)**

Hermione Granger was covered in grape soda.

More specifically: grape soda _vomit_.

This was thanks to a certain Draco Malfoy, who was currently moaning and leaning his head out of the window of the 1988 station wagon both were stuck in (Hermione quite literally) as it flew down the wide open highways of America.

The occupants of the car consisted of one Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, one Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger in one 1988 fake wood paneled tan and brown Ford station wagon with the original naugahyde seats and tape player.

Hermione took a moment to remember how she had gotten here.

………………………………

The week at ideal Street Resort _had_ been going well. Muggle Sports day had been a wash out. Literally, it rained so hard the fields had become a swamp. Most of the guests had only been there for the weekend but not the Malfoys. Oh no. They were going to be there all week. Hermione, being the masochist she was, thought it would be a great idea to take the Malfoys on a road trip. In America. For the four days that no other paying guests would be at the resort.

She approached the Malfoys with the idea and Narcissa and Lucius had been enthusiastic. Draco on the other hand, he stared at Hermione like she'd grown and second head. Of course he had to agree to the idea so three short hours later, they were standing in front of a tricorne hat that would make George Washington weep with pride.

Hermione took a deep breath. No time like the present. The Malfoys and Hermione put their hands on the hat. Hermione felt the sucking at her navel and the dizzy trip through time and space. She landed with a thump on Draco.

"Oof. Christ, Granger_._ What have you been doing?" Malfoy said when he could catch his breath.

Hermione pushed herself off of Draco's firm, lean body. "I'm a competitive eater, Malfoy," she replied sarcastically. "I can eat a pound cake in under a minute."

"I'll say," Draco said wincing as he dusted himself off. "I think you tore my…robes." Draco stopped talking as he realized they were no longer in wizard clothing. "Nobody said anything about having to dress like a, a Muggle," Draco wailed. He ran his hands over the turquoise sweater vest and white Oxford shirt that now graced his chest. He tugged at the dark blue jeans that covered his long legs and moaned. Hermione was rather pleased with her outfit: dark wash jeans, a coral v neck t-shirt and a dark gray pullover fleece and sunglasses.

"Well, that sweater definitely gives your ghostly white skin some much needed color. And look, your jeans match your mood," Hermione said.

"Shut it, Granger. I can't believe I have these rags touching my pureblood skin." Draco said wrinkling his nose. "Since you're a Muggleborn, you must love being back with your kind," he said.

Before she could reply, Draco had a hold of her arm and was dragging her in the direction of his parents. Hermione and Draco met up with the senior Malfoys, who looked as perplexed and disgusted as Draco did to find they were in Muggle clothing.

"Nobody said anything about… jeans," Narcissa said sadly. She looked like a perfect country club mom in her khakis and pink button up shirt and pearls. Lucius looked rather dashing in an outfit similar to Draco's although his sweater was a peacock blue. Hermione shrugged. Robes did nothing for anyone's figure. She said as much.

"Hmm, I guess you're right," Narcissa said as she eyed her husband's form. Lucius paused in pulling out his white jean pockets and raised an eyebrow at Narcissa. Hermione felt faintly nauseous. Draco felt the same.

"Good thing we all have separate hotel rooms," Hermione whispered to Draco. She had momentarily forgotten she should be annoyed with Lucius and that she shouldn't agree with Draco on anything.

"Right," Draco said. They were momentarily united in their mutual nausea that his parents were still turned on by each other.

"Well, now that you're all okay with your clothing, let's get on with the tour," Hermione said.

"Tour?" Lucius asked.

"Yup. I've signed us up for a tour and a show at Weeki Watchee Mermaid World. Then we'll check into the hotel and tomorrow we'll take in Colonial Williamsburg and Gettysburg.

Hermione smiled at their blank faces. "Oh, here's the tour now. Enjoy." Hermione tried to hurry away from the Malfoys but Draco quickly snaked his arm around her waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Granger?" he breathed into Hermione's ear, his arm pressing into her stomach.

Her senses were momentarily overwhelmed and she struggled to come up with an answer besides "gurgle." "I ah, I was just going to… visit the ladies room. All this water makes me, yeah." Hermione felt a flush creeping up her neck and gave Draco a little shrug and an innocent smile.

He squinted suspiciously at her for a long moment and then nodded.

"Alright, you pass this time, Granger, but I've got my eyes on you," Draco said widening his eyes and doing the pointer-middle finger vee between his eyes and Hermione's. Hermione flared her nostrils but smiled sweetly.

"See you in a jiff, she said and sprinted into the restroom. She splashed her face with water and gave herself a brief pep talk ("You're good enough, you're smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like you!"), before heading out to join the Malfoys.

The foursome joined the back of the tour group.

"Weeki Wachee Springs, the spring of the Weeki Wachee River, is a Florida tourist attraction where underwater performances by mermaids – women dressed in fancy outfits with fins about their legs – can be viewed in an aquarium-like setting. The attractions here include a Buccaneer Bay water park, animal shows, and boat rides."

"If you'll follow me this way we'll take a look at the caves that are located under the Springs." The tour wandered off behind the guide, picking their way along the beach.

Hermione paused and took in a deep breath of the salty sea air. Seagulls flew overhead in the hazy sky and Hermione started to feel something like peace. It was short lived.

Her reverie was rudely interrupted by one Draco Malfoy. "Granger, get your bushy head of hair over here." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Since you asked so nicely," Hermione muttered and trudged over to where the tour group had come to a stop.

"Can you please not wander away?" Draco asked. "That woman just asked me where I'm from and I didn't know what to say."

"Ugh, seriously Malfoy? Don't you know where you live? You don't have to give your address. Just say London," Hermione said.

"But, I can't talk to Muggles," Draco replied.

"How do you even know she's a Muggle?"

"She has a stain on her shirt. Any wizard worth their salt would have magicked it away."

"Whatever, Malfoy. You're going to have to deal with them sometime," Hermione sighed.

She was looking forward to her bed more than the Weeki Watchi mermaids and that was serious. Hermione loved The Little Mermaid as a kid and had been thrilled to find out they were real. Even if these weren't real mermaids, it was still sort of magical and cheesy.

After the five o'clock show was over, Lucius got to exercise his map comprehension skills. Four wrong turns and a quick stop at a gas station for grape soda Hermione was incredibly thankful to find out they were staying in separate rooms. At least, she thought they were.

"Miss Granger, you can understand why I want to stay in the same room as Lucius can't you? You and Draco are old friends. I know you won't get up to any shenanigans since you're well, you know, a Muggle born and wouldn't dream of doing, well, indecent things." Narcissa beamed at Hermione who could not think of a reason why she shouldn't stay in a room with Draco. "He looks like a ferret" was not a legitimate reason. Besides, they were paying A LOT of money to be on this trip and it was her idea. Hermione knew she would have to be accommodating. "Just remember Spain," she reminded herself.

"Of course, Narcissa. Enjoy your night. I'll see you bright and early in the morning."

Hermione used her key, which was connected to a miniature yellow and white buoy with twine, to get into the nautical themed room. The room had dark blue carpeting, blue and white striped walls, scenes of sailboats sailing in various types of weather and a mustard yellow corduroy couch that had a multicolored quilt draped across the back, with mermaid accent pillows, of course. All in all, the room was rather homey. Hermione especially appreciated the seagull shaped light fixtures and table shaped like the steering wheel of a ship. Hermione assumed people were supposed to sit in between the glossy brown spokes. She just shrugged and set her sunglasses on the brass center of the wheel.

Her trunk and Draco's had been were on the bed and after checking to make sure her belongings were in order, Hermione sent them to the corner, heaved a dramatic sigh and threw herself on the double bed.

Wait a minute?

Bed?

As in, a singular, single, only one, bed? She sat up quickly.

Oh no.

This was not what she had signed up for.

Draco entered the room, took a quick sweep of the bed situation and glared down at her.

"Oh no. This is not what I signed up for. Granger, you're on the couch," Draco declared, making a "get off" motion with his thumb.

"Ah, no I don't think so. I knew how to work a key. I got here first, I get to pick the sleeping arrangements," she said stubbornly.

Draco narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

"Fine, have it your way. I'm going to the bar," he finally said.

"But you couldn't even talk to the Muggle tour guide earlier," Hermione reminded him.

"You'd be amazed what I can accomplish with a few shots of firewhiskey," Draco declared grandly and left the room with a slam of the door.

"But you can't buy…there's no firewhiskey…" Hermione stammered. "Whatever. He'll find out soon enough."

Hermione flopped back onto the bed and flipped through the TV channels. There were a few programs on fishing, absolutely no music videos on MTV, "that's a misnomer if there ever was one," and nothing that scandalous on E!

Hermione decided to call it a night, at the late hour of 8pm changed into her pjs and curled up under the duvet. She quickly fell asleep. She was rudely awakened five hours later when Draco stumbled into the room. Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then rubbed them again in disbelief. Draco had his arms draped around two giggling women who looked as thought they had gotten lost on the way to a Vegas lounge. Draco was wearing a captain's hat that tilted precariously to the right and he'd managed to get a hold of a fake gray mustache and bushy eyebrows and a pipe that blew bubbles.

"Draco, what the hell is going on?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Hermione, this is my first mate Brandi and this is my skipper, Skipper. Can you believe her name is really Skipper?" Draco giggled and twirled his left eyebrow.

"Draco, get these two bit whores out of here!" Hermione screeched.

"Aw, Granger. That's not very nice," Draco pouted. "They aren't whores. They're mermaids in the show." Draco grinned drunkenly at Brandi and attempted to motorboat her boobs. He missed and ended up in her armpit.

"Same thing, Draco. Just get them out," Hermione demanded.

"Uh, you're such a buzz kill," Draco said. Hermione glared until Draco wilted under her Look. "I thought you'd a least be pleased that I was talking to Muggles," he grumbled.

"Fine. I see that you haven't changed a bossy bit since Pigfarts, I mean, Hogwarts. Girls, it's been lovely. Brandi, you're a fine girl. I think you'd be a good wife. Skipper, you definitely know how to raise a man's mast."

He blew some bubbles and twirled his mustache at them and they giggled. Again. Draco showed them out the door and turned back to Hermione.

"Grange, Granger," he started. He stumbled toward the bed where Hermione had been asleep a few blissful minutes before. He pushed aside the covers and stretched out. "Ahhh, yeah. You know, a bar really is a pub is a brrr," he said sleepily. He patted Hermione's back. Hermione froze, hoping that if she stayed still he would just forget she was there. "You know, I wash really worred this trip would be awf, awfl. Bad. Yeah. I was worred it would be bad but I think it might be okay," he confessed.

She turned to reply but Draco was already quietly snoring, still blowing bubbles out of the pipe.

She sighed. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, and shuffled over to the mustard yellow couch and for the third time that day, flopped down. She tried to ignore the slight smell of mothballs and baby powder and wrapped a quilt around her.

Morning came far too quickly. The alarm was a ship's horn that made Hermione literally jump straight up. Draco on the other hand. Well, he was dead to the world, his mustache half off, trying to connect to an eyebrow perhaps. Hermione groaned and lay back for a brief moment. The horn blared again.

"Alright, alright. I'm up. Why couldn't it be a mermaid singing glubby songs from underwater?" She slapped the alarm off and stumbled into the bathroom. After a long, hot shower, Hermione felt somewhat refreshed. Seeing that Draco was still passed out, Hermione wandered down to the continental breakfast buffet where she heaped her plate with a bowl of mixed up cereals and orange juice. She grabbed a piece of toast and a grape jelly for good measure and went to sit in an uncomfortable plastic chair with Narcissa and the woman from the tour who had dared to ask Draco where he was from.

"Oh, hello Hermione. How was your night? I trust you slept well?" Narcissa asked brightly. She went back to buttering her croissant.

"Yes, I slept well when I was in the bed. Once Draco got back, I had to sleep on the couch. The bed wasn't big enough for me and Mr. Bubbles," Hermione replied.

Narcissa smiled. She hadn't listened to a word Hermione had said.

"Wonderful. Wonderful. Well, we've got a big day ahead of us. Lucius is at his driving lesson and then we're off to somewhere called 'Vah.' This is such a strange country." She twittered with the place-asking woman whom Hermione had decided to call 'Mona'.

"Vah? Oh, you mean Virginia. Where are we going in Virginia?" Hermione inquired. She took a bite of her cocoa puff fruity pebble loop cereal. It was awesome. It just needed a little more sugar.

"Colonial Something," Narcissa answered.

"You don't mean Colonial Williamsburg, do you? It's so close to so many battlefields from the Revolutionary War and the Civil War." Mona asked. "My, you really are on the great American roadtrip!"

Hermione set down her spoon of suddenly too-sweet cereal, if that was even possible, and smiled graciously at Mona. The mention of war, anyone's war, still made her a bit queasy. "Yes, it seems we are. Narcissa, Mona, please excuse me. I should get my things packed." Hermione shoved her chair away from the table as quickly as possible and sprinted back to her room. Maybe there had been too much sugar in her cereal after all? Hermione burst into the room she'd shared with Draco, grabbed the alarm clock and placed it next to Draco's ear. She pressed the "preview" button.

"Woooooonnnnkkkkk! Woooooooonnnnkkkk!" The alarm blared to life and so did Draco.

"What the? Holy shit fuck piss! What the hell is that?" Draco stammered. He caught sight of Hermione and her evil grin.

"Granger. You are so, so" he paused and clutched his stomach. "Sick. I'm going to be sick. Draco made his way to the bathroom, running into everything possible on his way. The sounds of the morning after the night before could soon be heard. Hermione shook her head disapprovingly and got to packing her things. Draco stumbled out and crawled back into bed.

"Nuh, uh, Draco. We're leaving in twenty minutes. I suggest you take a shower," Hermione warned.

"I'm dying," Draco moaned. He opened one eye to see if Hermione felt sorry for him.

"No, you're hung over. What did you drink anyway?" Hermione asked as she zipped her luggage closed.

"Gimli, no, gimlets," Draco managed to get out.

"Oh god," Hermione laughed. "You'd better drink a shit load of water. And then never drink again. Actually, maybe you should have a little hair of the dog." Hermione looked around the hotel room. She spotted the minibar and the two-liter of grape soda that had been purchased the night before.

"Here, exchange rate is good enough to pay for this anyway." Hermione handed Draco a tumbler glass with a mini bottle of rum mixed with grape soda. Draco took it gratefully and swallowed in one gulp.

"Ooo, yeah. I feel better already. Shit, that grape soba is tasty," Draco said. He managed to lift his head and open both eyes.

"Soda, Draco. Soda," Hermione told him. "C'mon, get your things together. We have to go." Draco grumbled but got his stuff together. He tried to take the rest of the minibar but settle for a bag of peanuts and the purple soda.

"God, this stuff is awesome," he said as he chugged half the bottle.

"Easy, tiger," Hermione warned. Draco rolled his eyes but refrained from drinking more. They met up with his parents in the parking lot of the hotel. While Lucius loaded the luggage and Hermione talked about…something, Draco took a few surreptitious swigs of the soda. He was disappointed to find out the bottle was not bottomless and chucked the empty bottle in the recycling bin.

The girls, ah, the girls. Draco smiled at the memory of Brandi and Skipper. The girls had chided him for making fun of a recycling public service announcement on the TV but the lesson had stuck. The more you know…

Draco itched his cheek and laughed when he discovered his mustache was still on as well as his captain's hat. He couldn't figure out where his eyebrows were. A little tip for the maid, he decided, and got in the car's backseat with Hermione, his parents in the front.

…………………………

A little over an hour into the trip Draco was not feeling well at all.

It was hot in the car. Lucius and Narcissa were having fun pressing buttons and the heater was on full blast. The only music the car was able to provide was a tape of Michael Jackson's _Thriller_. Lucius had quickly taken to the King of Pop and was listening to it for the third time.

They had entered into a hilly part of the highway and Draco was feeling motion sickness in an enclosed space for the first time.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Nope, that didn't help. Hermione had been watching the country go by when she heard Draco's labored breathing. She glanced over only to see the color drain from his already freakishly pale face.

"Draco, are you okay?" Hermione asked nervously.

Draco could only look at her in horror. He was going to throw up.

"Don't you dare throw up on me! Lucius, pull over!" Hermione yelled.

Too late.

Draco emptied the purple contents of his stomach in Hermione's lap. The vomit splattered all over her, including her hair. It was fairly projectile in its trajectory. Hermione opened her mouth to yell at Draco and then wished she hadn't. A few drops of purple spew got into her mouth and Hermione thought her fruity loops might join the party. She whimpered. Afraid to open her mouth or even breathe Hermione prayed for a wand to appear.

Draco hung his head out the window while Hermione fumed. Narcissa fussed over Draco as well as she could from the front seat while Lucius continued to sing along, badly, to_ Billie Jean_, completely oblivious to the horror that was happening behind him.

"Billie Jean is not my mother. She's a just a girl who thinks that I am the sun, but, the kid is not my gun. Do, do. Do, do…"

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Grape soda or not, she leaned forward and spoke directly in Lucius' right ear.

"Lucius Malfoy, I swear on the founding fathers of this country that if you do not pull this car over at the soonest opportunity, I will go _Thriller _zombie on your ass and push your son out the car, so help me Thomas Jefferson," she said in an eerily calm voice.

Hermione saw Lucius' eyes flick toward the carnage in the backseat in the rearview mirror. His eyes widened and Lucius nodded. "Of course, Miss Granger, my dear. Oh look, just five miles to the nearest rest stop! We'll be there in no time." Lucius stepped a little harder on the gas pedal.

Hermione was pissed.

She punched Draco's arm for something to do. It made her feel a little better. It also made Lucius drive a little faster. The rest stop came into view shortly and Hermione felt relief wash over her.

"There's a lake!" she said excitedly. "Thank God. I can drown Draco in it after I clean off."

How was this only the second day of the trip?

* * *

My humblest and hugest apologies for the three-month delay. Real Life™ and all that jazz got in the way. Thanks for reading! FM

Up Next: Battle re-enactments. Faces carved into rocks. Costumes and debauchery (finally). The wide-open spaces of the American West. Yee Haw!


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